by Zoe Chant
Like on the cats back at the animal rescue camp, Candice realized, remembering how the little unicorn had captured their attention as well. Animals are smarter than people, they see what she really is. And they trust her…
Wystan had moved deeper into the barn, scanning the line of stalls. In his wake, the thuds and neighs fell silent. Black and bay and white faces appeared over doors, every pair of ears fixing in his direction.
“I count all ten present,” Wystan said, apparently oblivious to the effect he was having on the animals. “But we’re not going to be able to make multiple trips to ferry them out to the safe point two at a time like we planned. What do we do with the rest? I’m confident Rory and the others will hold the fire off, but I’m worried the horses will injure themselves in a panic. Should we sedate them?”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Candice said. “Uh, you don’t need a full moon or anything like that to transform, do you?”
He flashed her a somewhat puzzled look. “Very little about werewolf legends is accurate. I could shift, but…” He hesitated, then continued, with a catch in his voice. “I’m not sure what good I could do. I—I’m not like Rory and the others. I don’t have any powers.”
“Wake up, Wystan.” Candice jerked a thumb at the fascinated horses. “Look at them!”
Wystan blinked around as though only just noticing his audience. “Well, yes. Animals like me. That’s nothing special.“
“Oh, stop your pity party. You’re a unicorn, not a lame donkey.” Candice strode past him, making a rapid assessment of the horses. She picked out two small Shetland ponies whose stubby legs would have trouble keeping up with the rest of the herd. “This one and this one. They’ll come with me in the trailer. You lead the rest of them.”
Wystan’s mouth hung open for a moment. “You think they’ll follow me? But—”
“You. Are. A. Unicorn,” Candice repeated, punctuating each word by jabbing her finger into his chest. “Now shift your ass!”
For a moment she thought he would argue further. Then he nodded, squaring his shoulders. “It’s worth a try. I’ll do my best.”
A star sparked to life on his forehead. The glow rapidly spread over his whole body, silver radiance illuminating his skin from within. No groaning or writhing, like werewolves in horror movies--without moving a muscle, he abruptly blazed as bright as crystal, his silhouette lost in dazzling rainbow-edged light. She had to fling up a hand to shield her eyes.
When she could look again, there was the unicorn.
She’d seen him before, of course, but she’d been nearly out of her mind with terror and shock at the time, and half convinced that she was simply having a psychotic breakdown. Now she knew that he was real.
A lump formed in her throat at his shining beauty. He filled the barn with soft, rippling light, like the moon reflecting from water. All the crashing and noise from the hotshot crew working outside the barn abruptly seemed very far away. She could have sworn that even the smoke in the air thinned, purified by his mere presence.
Every horse in the barn had gone absolutely still. Pulling herself together, Candice hurried down the row of stalls, opening each door in turn. She’d been braced for a mass stampede—but the horses still didn’t move. They made her think of shy teenagers hesitating around a dance floor, everyone waiting for someone else to go first.
Wystan looked just as uncomfortable in the spotlight of their attention. He shifted his weight, one silver hoof stamping uncertainly. Then, just as he’d squared his shoulders before, he seemed to steel himself. He moved to Princess’s stall, lowering his great head to touch his velvet nose gently to hers. The moonlight glow from his horn brightened.
The grey mare whickered, greeting him as if he was a long-lost friend. When he backed up, she followed willingly, her hooves clicking on the concrete floor.
“That’s it, brave heart. Out you come.” Swiftly, Candice got a halter on the mare, attaching a tag with the animal rescue phone number just in case she got separated from the rest of the herd on the journey out. The mare held steady as a rock, her attention fixed on Wystan.
“That’s one.” Candice gave the mare a last pat, then stroked Wystan’s gleaming fur. “See? Easy. You’re doing great.”
The towering unicorn shot her a very Wystan wry look: I have no idea what I’m doing. Nonetheless, he paced down the row of stalls, coaxing each horse out in turn. Candice haltered and tagged as fast as she could, all the time aware of the ticking clock. They had to get the horses out before the wildfire cut off the escape route.
She attached lead ropes to the halters of the two Shetland ponies, tugging them out of their stalls. The pair snorted and resisted, shaking their heads as she tried to lead them out of the barn. Flash, who’d been trotting at her heels as she gathered up the horses, darted around to touch noses with them in miniature imitation of Wystan. The ponies settled instantly, following along as tamely as working dogs.
This is the weirdest rescue I have ever done. A mad giggle rose in her throat as she led the whole bizarre parade—two ponies, eight horses, and a mismatched pair of unicorns—out to the waiting trailer. In the distance, she caught sight of Rory and the others grimly scratching out the fire line with superhuman speed. They’d already covered half the distance needed to protect the ranch buildings, but the smoke was thickening fast. Time was running out.
Candice waved at Rory, trying to attract his attention. The big man flashed her a thumbs-up sign, his cutting tool never breaking rhythm.
A hand fell on her shoulder, making her jump. Wystan had shifted back to human form, the horses still clustered behind him.
“Rory says to go,” Wystan reported. From the slightly abstracted look in his green eyes, she guessed he was in telepathic communication with his squad boss. “They’ll catch us up once they’re finished here.”
“No sign of the Nightmare or the Thunderbird?” Candice asked as she led the ponies up the ramp and into the trailer.
“Not yet. I’m worried that Callum’s not at his best, though. He tends to picks up the emotions of the living creatures around him.” Wystan indicated the small herd of horses, who were starting to look more agitated now that they were out of the barn. “He hasn’t said anything, but I can tell this is a strain for him. It must be the equivalent of trying to listen out for approaching footsteps while someone screams in your ear.”
“Let’s get them clear, then, so he can concentrate.” Candice stuck each pony with a half-dose of sedative, just to make sure they didn’t panic once the trailer started moving. She climbed down, fastening the back doors securely. “I’m going to take it slow and steady. If you’re having trouble keeping up, just…neigh or something.”
“We might be able to do somewhat better than that, actually. Er.” Wystan held out a hand, for all the world as if he was inviting her to dance. “May I kiss you?”
She raised her eyebrows at him. “Is this really the time?”
“It’s purely in the interests of effective communication, I assure you.” He hesitated, his mouth crooking a little in that devastating, wicked smile. “Well. Mostly.”
The heated look in his eyes kindled answering warmth low in her belly. She found that she’d stepped closer to him without thought, drawn by that magnetic pull. A tingle shot through her as his hand slid around the back of her neck.
His lips brushed hers—not fierce and demanding, like their first kiss, but soft, gentle, wordlessly asking permission. She opened to him without hesitation, her eyes fluttering closed to better savor the sweetness of his mouth. Slowly, he deepened the kiss, tasting and taking and giving, until her whole body was alive with sensation, with him.
And in the midst of the rising pleasure, his voice spoke in her head: *Can you hear me?*
She yelped, jerking back. It was one thing to have Flash or Fenrir touch her mind. It was quite another to have a human being in there.
Wystan winced, gingerly touching his mouth where she’d bitten him. “I’ll take t
hat as a yes. My apologies. I should have been clearer about what I intended.”
Heart hammering, she stared at him. Somehow she could feel a thread of connection between the two of them, fragile as a spiderweb. “Yeah, bud. What the hell did you do, give me some kind of mystic STD?”
He looked pained, and not due to her teeth. “I didn’t give you anything that wasn’t already there. True mates can talk to each other telepathically once they’re bonded.”
Her voice shot up an octave. “We’re married now?”
“No!” he exclaimed, to her relief. “The full link wouldn’t activate unless we went through, ah…certain formalities, shall we say. But there is a subliminal connection between us. Physical closeness makes it a little less subliminal. Since you seem unusually sensitive to telepathic communication, I thought we might be able to reach each other’s minds even without the full mate bond. I believe it worked. Can you reach me?”
She looked him straight in the eye, and silently told him exactly what she thought of him.
He winced again. “I deserved that. I promise, I cannot hear anything that you don’t deliberately send me. Your thoughts are still private.”
Deliberately, she brought to mind how fabulous his tongue had felt, and how much other parts of her were now panting to receive more of him. Since his pale skin didn’t flame instantly red, it seemed he was telling the truth. There was no way Wystan would have been able to maintain his composure if he could see what she was doing to him in her imagination.
With a sigh, she released both her indignation and her ill-timed lust. “All right. I guess the telepathy thing could come in handy. Just don’t spring any more surprises on me, okay?”
Wystan grimaced. “We need to have a very long conversation in the very near future.”
“No kidding. But not now.” Candice boosted Flash into the back of the Jeep. “Let’s get this circus on the road.”
Wystan shimmered back into unicorn form, rounding up the horses as she started up the Jeep. She rolled out as slowly as she could, keeping one eye on the wing mirror. To her relief, the herd followed in an uneven bunch. Wystan’s white form patrolled the edges, gently encouraging stragglers to catch up with the group.
“Well, we aren’t wining any blue ribbons at the rodeo with this, but at least we’ve got them moving,” she muttered to herself. She hadn’t realized she’d sent the words telepathically as well until she felt a wave of wry acknowledgement in answer. She scrunched up her nose, concentrating on the weird echoing feeling of broadcasting her thoughts beyond her own skull. *All okay back there?*
*Yes. Speed up.* Wystan’s mental voice was different to his real one—stronger and more direct. She was struck by the odd thought that he sounded like he’d looked when he was sleeping. *The herd can tell that the fire is getting close, and they want to run. We’ll get them to safety faster if we work with their natural instincts rather than trying to hold them back.*
Candice had been holding the Jeep to a crawl, out of fear of a horse stumbling and breaking a leg, but she trusted Wystan’s judgement. She shifted gear, accelerating. A storm of hoofbeats thudded over the rattle of the trailer as Wystan urged the herd into a rolling trot.
Candice led the ragged procession away from the ranch, her heart in her mouth. In short order, they’d left the dirt track behind and were out onto what passed for a main road in this neck of the woods. She was grateful that the local sheriffs had cordoned off the area as part of the emergency evacuation. At least she didn’t have to worry about any other traffic.
She could only catch the occasional glimpse of Wystan in the mirror, but she could feel him through that strange, tenuous link. She sensed him darting around the herd, coaxing and cajoling the horses to stay together. It was clearly hard work to keep them all moving in the same direction.
A sudden ear-splitting whinny behind her ear nearly made her swerve into the ditch. Cursing, she wrestled the unwieldy vehicle back onto the road. She risked a glance over her shoulder, fearing to discover that one of the Shetland ponies had emerged early from sedation and was now trying to kick its way out of the trailer—but they both still seemed calm.
Flash screeched again, the sound high and unearthly. Candice jumped again as the little unicorn teleported out of the cage, reappearing on the passenger seat in a flash of white light. Flash’s hooves scrabbled at the door of the car as though she was trying to paw it open.
“Whoa!” Candice grabbed at Flash’s mane before the unicorn stuck her horn through the window. “What is it, baby? What’s wrong?”
She didn’t sense the slightest hint of a telepathic message from Flash. The unicorn fought her madly, her purple eyes fixed on the trees blurring past outside. Her muscles bunched as though to hurl herself straight through the windscreen. The glow from her horn brightened.
She’s going to teleport herself outside the car! High school physics flashed through her head, half-remembered laws about conservation of momentum. She had a horrifying vision of Flash materializing somewhere else while still maintaining the same speed as the car—catapulting herself into the ground at thirty miles per hour.
She couldn’t stop without having the whole herd of following horses crash into her bumper. She was left with only one option, no matter how risky. Frantically praying that she wasn’t making a terrible mistake, she grabbed for a tranquillizer syringe, jamming it into Flash’s shoulder.
She pulled it out again almost immediately, not wanting to risk giving Flash any more than a quarter dose of the drug. It was still enough. Flash squawked, shooting her a look of utter betrayal. Then the little unicorn’s eyes rolled up. She collapsed in a limp heap on the seat.
*Candice!* Wystan’s white flank surged next to the driver-side window. *What is it? What’s wrong?*
“Flash,” she answered, trusting that the words would reach him telepathically if he couldn’t hear her over the roar of the engine. She fumbled to lay one hand against Flash’s neck, and let out a shaky breath of relief as she found the little unicorn’s pulse beating strong and even. “She’s okay, but I had to sedate her. She was about to try to teleport out of the car.”
*What?* Wystan ducked his head, one emerald eye peering through the window. *Why?*
“She just suddenly went berserk. I don’t know—“
And abruptly, Candice did know why.
“Wystan!” she yelled, fear surging through her. “Duck!”
Chapter 19
Candice’s shouted warning nearly came too late. Only his equine peripheral vision saved him, a flicker of black triggering instinctive reflexes. Wystan shied aside, the bolt of energy crackling through the space where his head had just been.
“It’s the Nightmare!” Candice yelled, in both his ears and his mind. “Wystan, run!”
He dropped back instead, positioning himself between the Nightmare and Candice. In this form, he could see in a nearly complete circle, allowing him to keep an eye on the black form ghosting through the trees while still running forward himself.
The other horses had caught sight of the unnatural shape too, and had clearly identified it as predator. As one, they broke into a full gallop, necks and legs stretching as far as they could. The herd surged around Candice’s vehicle in a chaos of rolling eyes and jostling bodies.
*Go faster!* he sent to Candice urgently. *It’s catching up!*
*I can’t! I’ll hit one of them!* Candice was having to slow down to avoid the panicked horses. *They’re blocking the road!*
Another streak of black flickered behind him. On pure instinct, Wystan wheeled around, horn flaring bright as he leaped to intercept the bolt. The Nightmare’s shadowy missile fractured as it hit his radiant aura, sizzling into a shower of sparks.
*WYSTAN!* Candice screamed.
*I’m all right,* he managed to send back, through the pain ringing through his skull. Even though his light had seemed to counteract the Nightmare’s dark power, he still felt as though someone had whacked his horn with a sledgeha
mmer. It wasn’t an experience he was eager to repeat.
He broke into a gallop again, charging toward the Nightmare. The possessed creature scuttled like a hellish spider on its knife-legs, flicking into the cover of the forest. He slowed, hesitating. He didn’t dare try to pursue that flickering, elusive shape through the darkness under the trees.
His unicorn reared in his mind, mane tossing. Our mate! Protect our mate!
With a jolt of alarm, he realized that the Nightmare was trying to flank him, circling around so that it could get a clear shot at Candice. He stretched his legs to full extension, but the Nightmare was faster.
*Candice, BRAKE!* he flung frantically into her mind.
The Jeep’s red taillights flashed on just as the Nightmare burst from the forest in a curving leap. Its stabbing forelegs missed the skidding vehicle by inches, knifing instead into the road. Then it was tumbling away, knocked head over heels as the Jeep’s bumper caught it a glancing blow. Horses screamed, scattering away from its thrashing form.
He gathered himself to impale the monster through the heart…and hesitated.
It wasn’t out of pity. The Nightmare was already hissing and lashing out, scythe-like legs cleaving the air as it struggled to regain its feet. Its red eyes were fixed on him…and there was more than hatred there. A greedy, possessive hunger burned in those crimson depths. It wanted him to come closer.
Close enough to bite.
If it gets its teeth in me, it’s all over. That was how the demons moved from host to host, jumping from one body to another. With a flash of insight, he realized that the monster was playing up its predicament, trying to lure him into a direct attack. Perhaps it was reaching the end of Flash’s mother’s usefulness, and now sought a fresher body.
The Jeep had slewed to a halt, the trailer teetering precariously behind it. The Shetland ponies neighed from within, alarmed but unharmed by the abrupt stop. In the time it would take Candice to restart the engine, the Nightmare would be back on its feet.
He made a split-second decision, aborting his charge. Instead, he kicked out at the driver-side door, sending it flying off its hinges. *Grab Flash and get on!*